Time Stands Still
by too-old-to-love-jake
Summary: Bella Swan is torn from the love of her life in an emotional time in 1918, able to talk only through letters. When she returns to Chicago she to claim her love for Edward Masen, what she finds is life changing.
1. Chapter 1: Letters of Love

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, no copyright infringement intended.

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**Time Stands Still**

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**Chapter 1: Letters of Love**

I stared at the blank remnant of paper in front of me. I had sat aimlessly for hours trying to word my next letter to Edward. My heart longed to speak to him, but my mind could not express my feelings through mere words. It was much like a song with no melody, or a piano with no keys-having potential yet ineffective. My writing time was growing short as the sun was sinking behind the clouds, and candle light was not an appropriate way to write a letter such as this. I looked over to the lone bed in my room, one of only two rooms in our tiny apartment. The cold hard metal reminded me of how desolate my life was, and how I loathed my own mother for bringing me to such a place as this.

My life, for the first time, had resembled peace and tranquility while I lived in Chicago. My mother and I stayed with my dearly beloved great Aunt Matilda. Auntie Mattie was my grandfather's sister and my very favorite person on earth. She was lively and eccentric. She enjoyed life and infected everyone around her with happiness. She was the only wealthy member of our family, but to look at her you would never know she had so much as a nickel. Auntie Mattie's first husband had helped to develop the railroad through Chicago. After his untimely passing, she married an older gentleman from the community, Ernest Russell. It had seemed strange for a young woman of thirty-five to marry a man nearing his seventies, but her love for Ernie, as she affectionately called him, was genuine. Ernie was a successful architect in Chicago and had a small fortune built up when he married Mattie. Ernie died, leaving Auntie Mattie a widow, for the second time, at the age of 50. Being the savvy shrew that she was, she continued the business and only expanded on their fortune. Because she never had her own children, Mattie had always loved me.

Her home was in the heart of Lincoln Park, and I was astonished to be able to attend Robert A Waller High School. I never felt like I belonged in such an upscale neighborhood, but I loved it just the same. The opportunity to attend such a modern academic institution as Robert A. Waller was, to most people, a dream. Not every American city could boast such a wonderful school with extended liberties to young woman. I thought a great deal about my time there and the opportunity I had lost. My heart became more and more barren with each memory.

Like most first days at a new school, I felt like a sideshow attraction in a traveling carnival. The stares and whispers were all the same, no matter what city I was in. A normal girl would have gone unnoticed in a school as big as this, 870 students to be exact. My gauche presence however would set me apart from the rest. I could easily look at the worn fabric of my dress skirt to know I didn't belong.

My second class of the day was science. I walked down the hall to the science room with shaky hands. I entered the classroom to find a lone seat in the back. Unbeknownst to me, the next minutes of my life would be the most pivotal. Every fragment of life's happiness I would endure would rest on these next minutes.

I took my seat at the wooden table beside the most handsome man my young eyes had ever laid upon. I couldn't turn away from his green eyes. His hair was longer than most of the other boys and was tousled about his beautiful face. It was an unusual shade of bronze and so free and soft. He looked intelligent but dangerous.

My lips parted to greet him, but the air in my lungs wouldn't move. I couldn't form a sentence.

He smiled at my obvious discomfort. His facial features were so immaculate that I was sure his mother must have painted them on. A perfect, strong, jaw line, straight nose, and full lips. His piercing green eyes were surrounded by thick dark lashes.

"Hi, I'm Edward Masen. Nice to meet you," he said as he extended his hand toward me.

I gladly returned the gesture, only nodding, still unable to speak.

"So you're new here, aren't you Bella?" he asked in a smooth, even voice. I was a bit taken aback as he called me by my preferred name and not my real name. Everyone else had greeted me with "Isabella." The sound of it annoyed me. How could he have known? My gaze intensified as I studied him. He was very perceptive

"Yes, this is my first day," I finally muttered to him as I looked away. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tiny smirk form on his lips, and I wondered what he had to be so happy about. Was he secretly mocking me? It was obvious I wasn't of Lincoln Park stature. I didn't need his scorn to remind me.

I began to fidget uneasily at the sleeve of my tattered gray sweater and was washed with relief when Mr. Howard began his lecture.

When lunchtime came around, I found myself alone in the cafeteria. The noise of chatter was almost deafening, and I had decided to eat outside when I saw a figure motioning for me. It was Anna. I recognized her from my first class of the day, English. She was now waving feverishly at me. I picked up my stride, brown paper bag in hand, to join her.

"Sit with us, I'll introduce everyone," she announced. I sat down and begin to examine the contents of my lunch sack: an apple, and last night's potato cake. My stomach ached in disapproval.

"This is John and Henry," she said, pointing to the two boys on the left side of the table. "This is Margaret and on the end is Mary."

I nodded at each of them and said, "I'm Bella."

After the introductions, the original conversation picked up, and I was relieved when the focus was off of me; I was uncomfortable answering so many questions about myself. I focused more on my lunch than my company. That was until Edward Masen entered the cafeteria.

I couldn't help but stare at him. He was exquisite, exactly the mold for a mythical god. My eyes followed him as he made his way to the back of the cafeteria. He sat at the corner table alone.

"That's Edward," Mary noted observing my obvious gaping.

"Yes, I have science with him. I've met him already," I informed her.

"He's kind of strange. A loner," Henry piped up.

"Just because his father is an attorney and his family is wealthy he thinks he doesn't have to be friendly," Margaret confessed.

I thought it vain to pine for him. I was a second class citizen, but I was drawn to him, and I refused to look away. He caught my stare and offered a grin. I responded shyly, then with more enthusiasm. The cafeteria became a flurry as the students flocked to their next classes. I lingered for a bit to allow the others to go ahead.

"Is your day getting better?" His voice sounded smooth and even. The voice of an angel could not be sweeter.

"It's well," I replied.

"Without sounding forward, shall I walk you to class?"

"Indeed," I smiled.

Over the next few days and weeks, I became very much attached to Edward Masen. By the time the school year ended, we had become inseparable. I yearned to be next to him, to feel the electricity between our skin. Every second spent apart from him was spent dreaming of his beauty. I missed the warmth and happiness he offered me, just by being present.

Margaret and Henry proved to be wrong about him. Their judgments were only presumptuous idiocies. Edward was the friendliest, noblest, and most gracious person I knew. Unlike the other students at school, Edward was wise beyond his seventeen years.

I interrupted my thoughts to glance back at the vacant paper. It was still empty and void, much like my own life. Why could I not get the words to flow? Writing Edward had always been natural, and yet I sat in the diminishing light, searching for words.

I reminisced to the first letter I wrote to Edward after leaving Chicago, every sentence, every word of it, etched into my heart.

**_June 3rd, 1918_**

**_My dearest Edward, _**

**_Time without you stands still, and my heart breaks with misery just knowing you are far away. My love for you still burns hot, and I relish the memory of your beautiful face. I long to walk beside you once again and hold your hand. It's your grace and warmth that I miss most of all. When I breathe in, your scent is present. When I close my eyes, your face is visible. When it's quiet I urge my ears to hear your soft, supple voice. I vividly hear you calling my name sweetly. _**

**_I'm trying to settle in here, but I agonize over this city. It's doleful and malignant and I miss you. I yearn to be with you, in your embrace. My dreams are the only thing I have to look forward to. Each night I am visited by your memory, and my hope is renewed once again-just knowing that I belong to you, sweetheart. My tears are a steady inescapable flow, ceased only by happy thoughts of you. I need you to continue to exist. _**

**_I've busied myself with reading: Dickens, Shakespeare and the like. My days are spent mostly alone as Renee is working at the beauty parlor. I don't know what enjoyment she possibly derives from such an occupation. At least the time away gives me a break from the incessant arguing with her. The days until Daddy arrives home continue to grow. His letters to us have stopped and we can't help but to fear the worst. _**

**_I hope to hear from you soon, my love. As my heart grows more and more weary, please know that I'm missing you. I should offer my gratitude for the love you have expended to me, for allowing me to feel a thousand emotions at once-and all of them grand. Until the day comes, that I can wrap myself in your loving arms, please count the stars to know how much I love you. When you've counted them all, every last one, start over. Because my love for you is endless and cannot be measured, even by the night's stars. _**

**_Forever and always, _**

**_Bella_**

**_June 10th, 1918_**

**_My Beloved, _**

**_How incredibly happy I was to receive your letter in the mail today. I cannot express my pleasure in a single letter. Time stands still for me as well. The winds around me are like a broken clock, forever immovable and irreparably damaged. My heart breaks at the misery you must suffer. Separation is an evil endurance, but my love for you in unwavering. _**

**_This war and disease have devastated our community. It disgusts me to stand silent, while so many are in aguish. I pray peace for you, and I pray mercy on your Father. Be patient with your mother. As much as your heart longs for me, her heart longs for Mr. Swan. Absence will truly make one mad. I am growing worse by the day just being without your lovely face. _**

**_The summer days drag on without you. I have not one other friend in the world besides you-not one other soul that I wish to confide in. I, too, yearn for the day when I can laugh with you and hold your hand. The memory of your sweet lips as we said goodbye keeps my wretched heart beating. If not for your beautiful memory, I would surely have surrendered myself to death. _**

**_I promise that we will be together soon, my love. I am fervent in my devotion for you. Each sunset reminds me that I'm one day closer to being with you, again. My hope is to hold you once again before summer's end and to feel your sweet soft kiss against my cheek. _**

**_I will count the stars every night just as you asked. And, as great as your love for me abounds in the stars, my love for you is much greater. _**

**_Eternally yours, _**

**_Edward_**

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**_A/N_**

**_Okay, I'm out of my element here. I'm officially writing an Edward fic. I'm still Team Jake so don't fret. Please let me know what you think of the story so far. I know it's hard to tell after one chapter but your reviews matter. Also don't forget the 'Sort of Beautiful Challenge' see my profile for details._**


	2. Chapter 2: From Tears to Dreams

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, it's characters, settings, or any likeness. No copyright infringement intended. **_

**_Thanks to Sue for beta'ing. _**

**Time Stands Still**

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**Chapter 2: From Tears to Dreams**

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The exchange of letters continued in the same manner throughout the summer, always a tale of heartbreak and loss, but of eternal devotion and love. Every day was spent the same- in anticipation of the next letter. If not for my communication with Edward, I would most likely succumb to my solitude and dissipate into insane oblivion. Each one of Edward's letters promised me a future with him and a pledge of his eternal devotion. Each letter filled me with an unending hope.

Life with Renee had only become more unbearable. As the days grew longer, so did her apprehension. She no longer expected to hear from my Father. He was a forbidden memory to her. She felt deserted, and in her state she had deserted me. It was if I didn't exist to her. I was a reminder of him, and she refused to be reminded of him. She missed Chicago almost as much as I did, though her new friends and her new life, although at times tumultuous, had given her some resolve of happiness. Her quick move to Boston was unmerited, and I struggled to comprehend her motives.

I missed Edward terribly. My loneliness increased with vigor as I became confined to the small, dank, two room apartment. I had no friends, and no family. Everything in existence reminded me of my Edward. The sun, the clouds, the rain, the fog, everyday life was a trigger for his memory. It was both a blessing and a curse. Nightfall was hideously exhausting. Night by night my tears relentlessly carried me into a dreamful slumber. I would end one day in tears to begin another with dreams. It was then that my mind and body could find peace. It was only then I could be with my darling and dream of his beauty and grace.

Despite the heartbreak that every day without Edward brought, I was still hopeful. I took on as many extra jobs as I could manage. I had secured a job with the newspaper printing company just down the block from our apartment. I would also baby sit for the German couple that lived in the flats across the street. Because of the war, not many people had befriended them, and they were very pleased with my offer.

I took on many odd jobs: dog walker, gardener, and housekeeper just to list a few. In addition to occupying my wandering mind I was making extra money . Money, which I needed in order to get myself back to Chicago and back to my love. I was confident in spending my life with Edward. My hopes rested on building a family with him and loving him every day until I died.

It wasn't until I received Edward's letter at the beginning of August that I became troubled. The overall tone of his letter was somber, and he withdrew from his long awaited visit to Boston. My heart broke at the thoughts of a prolonged postponed visit, or no visit at all. His desire to serve in the army brought about a magnitude of fears. The obvious first; he would leave and never return. I had nothing in Chicago without Edward. If he were to leave, I'd have nowhere to go, nowhere to be.

The paper sat untouched, mocking my ineffective writing. The sunlight rested for the evening as I struck a match to light the oil lamp beside me. I thought of my life with Edward in Chicago. I opened the window to allow a breeze to sweep in the tiny musty room. I closed my eyes to let the soft wind brush across my face, and for a second, I could taste his scent. I moved back to the desk, back to the lonesome piece of unused paper. My tears began to flow as I tapped my fingers against the depressed cavity of the wooden desktop. Memories of my first date with Edward floated above me, reminding me of happier time.

*************

On my third day of school, Edward came over to our house to ask my mother's permission. He had invited me for an afternoon autumn picnic with his mother and father. Renee seemed pleased with him and agreed. I always thought it odd that neither of us had siblings. Most families were clustered with children. But Edward and I grew up alone, and each of us had our own unique stubborn independence.

I was extremely nervous about the invitation. I was destined to say the wrong thing, or Heaven forbid, fall over my own two feet into the picnic basket. I really wanted to make a good impression. Edward's family was wealthy and high society. I had no place with them and I desperately needed their approval. Although I had only known Edward for a few days, I was certain I needed him to be a fixture in my life.

I was relieved when Auntie Mattie bought me a beautiful blue checked silk dress for my first outing with Edward. Renee never liked to take charity but she didn't object to Aunt Mattie's offer. I believe she may have realized the importance of this date. My future depended on it.

Auntie Mattie and I spent an entire afternoon at Marshall Fields on State Street looking for the perfect dress. Just going into the department store was a great event for me. Everything in Chicago seemed so much grander than Washington. But a department store that covers a full city block was downright pretentious by Washington standards. It was, by all accounts, the world's largest department store, with an annex across the street. Chicago was defined by the modern era. There was always a buzz of exciting things to do, and no shortage of entertainment. Floor after floor was a reminder of the wealth and growth this city had seen in the late nineteenth century.

The only other time I had shopped there was when Renee and I visited last year. Even then, our shopping was sequestered to the bargain basement. But we did make our way to the South Rotunda to see the beautiful dome covered in Tiffany Favrile art glass. One piece of that exquisite display was worth more money than I had seen in my whole life. Chicago was extremely opulent. Skyscrapers adorned the streets and every corner was reminiscent of the affluent lifestyle of the city.

Auntie Mattie stopped by one of the many salons inside Marshall Fields to get my hair done. She said that every gentleman deserved a lady with a beautiful hair-do. It felt nice to have someone fuss over me. Renee had been trapped in her world for so long, that I assumed she had forgotten me altogether. She had developed a new life with some rather ambiguous friends. Auntie Mattie was a little leery of Renee's new relationships and on more than one occasion, I heard her voice her concern very vividly.

Auntie Mattie sat and sipped tea while I was got the royal treatment. The salon that Renee worked at was just a roadside joint compared to the luxurious surroundings of the salons at Marshall Fields. I left there that day feeling like an aristocrat.

"Isabella, you look absolutely stunning," Renee beamed. I hadn't seen her smile that bright in a long while.

"Thank you, mother."

I glanced into the long mirror in the hallway. Aunt Mattie had let me borrow her white pearls and gloves. My chestnut hair was swept into corkscrew curls around my face. I hardly recognized the girl in front of me. She looked like Mildred Davis or some other beautiful actress from a Hollywood movie. She didn't resemble the ungainly girl I had become accustomed to seeing in the reflection.

Edward arrived promptly at noon to escort me back to his home. His charm and grace won the hearts of my beloved aunt and even my withering heart of a mother. He spoke so eloquently. It was hard to believe he was only seventeen years old; he seemed very worldly.

"Bella," he said maintaining a respectable distance between us.

"Yes," I replied

"You needn't be worried. My family will love you."

"I didn't tell you of my vexation. You are very intuitive."

"Indeed, it's a bittersweet contradiction," he replied seriously.

We strolled along the streets as we made our way two blocks to Edward's home. He waved to the passersby and to the automobiles as if our casual walk was an everday formality.

"We don't have automobiles in Washington," I informed him.

"Really, none at all?" he asked shocked.

"None in Forks."

"What a pity. There will come a day when every family owns their own automobile."

I laughed, amused at his sentiment.

Our conversation hushed as Edward opened the front gate to his home. He walked alongside me down the Hosta -lined path. The blooms had been absent for a long time but the vivid green leaves faintly crept over onto the pathway of stone. Their home was surprisingly moderate. Although beautiful, it wasn't pretentious and flamboyant like most of the homes of the Chicago upper class.

We stopped short of his parents. His mother was incredibly beautiful, and Edward's looks were likened unto her. Her green eyes were very inviting and she courteously welcomed me with a hug.

"Mother, Father. This is Bella," Edward introduced me.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Cullen. Edward has been very gracious to me since my move to Chicago." I greeted them causally. My legs screamed at me to run but I was planted. Edward's loving gaze approved of my presence here and no matter what their reaction to me was, as long as Edward wanted me to stay, then I would stay.

After our meal, Edward's mother and father retired to the parlor.

"I wish to remain outside, if that pleases you father, mother."

"Perhaps you should ask permission from Miss Swan," Mrs. Cullen suggested.

"Yes, absolutely," he spoke gazing permissively at me.

The autumn air was refreshing and relaxing. Once Edward's parents were inside, he nestled himself beside the trunk of a large oak. Leaning his head back to rest against the tree, he patted the ground beside him.

"Come sit, dear Bella."

I stepped closer to him and lowered my body to the ground beneath me.

"If you could pick your future what would you want?" he asked.

"Why would you ask me such a question?'

"Because, I want to know the answer."

"You are very forward, aren't you?"

"How will I come to know you if I don't ask you questions?"

"You are intuitive. Can't you read me like a book?"

"It would seem, Bella, you are difficult for me to decipher. Like right now, I'm wondering if you feel that stirring sensation in your heart like I feel, just because I'm close to you. "

My eyes fluttered in response to his statement. I knew exactly what he was speaking of. My heartbeat sped up to match the thoughts that raced through my mind. Edward postioned himself closer to me, igniting the mysterious 'sensation' within my soul.

*********

I awoke to the sound of birds just outside of the open window. I opened my eyes to greet the morning, only to find my surrounding unusual. My face was stiff and damp from sweat. I rubbed my hair from face. I was at the desk. I had fallen asleep trying to write a letter to Edward. The paper was lying beneath me, stained with the tears from the night before.

It was barely dawn, and I had several tasks on my agenda for the day. I needed to earn a little more money if I was going to follow through with my plan. I stretched my arms, allowing a steady course of yawns to force their way out. I rubbed my eyes to take in the light.

The paper taunted me. I felt as if my whole future rested on this letter. It was imperative that I write to him. But what was I to say? I had already begged him, pleaded with him.

I was reminded of my thoughts of Edward's last letter. Like every other one that he had written to me, I remembered every last line.

A_**ugust 4, 1918**_

_**Bella,**_

_**It is with deep regret that I write you so long after receiving your last letter. I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me this trespass. I've read your beautiful words every day, and I keep all of your letters close to heart. **_

_**The only news we hear of is the war. This war is claiming so much. My mother resents me for wanting to be a part of it. I can't think of one solitary act nobler than serving the country that I call home. My mother and father have forbid me to even think on joining the military. But my heart is elsewhere. My duty is to my country, that's how it is supposed to be. Their say in the matter will soon be obsolete. The draft is quickly approaching me. It's unavoidable. If I enlist now or wait until I'm eighteen, either way, it makes no difference. **_

_**I spent the greatest portion of yesterday trying to convince them of my needs. I was futile in my pathetic attempt. My persistence is resolute, and I shall try again tomorrow. Their argument will be much of the same:, encouraging me to pursue college and my activity with the glee club. I loathe the glee club and the debate team. I loathe school and the matriarchs who think they're special there. War is waging and people are dying and yet no one seems concerned. Their lack of empathy makes me ill. **_

_**I only wish to hold you before I depart. My darling, you must return to me soon. My heart yearns to see you and my thoughts are constant of you. I love you more today than yesterday. It pains me to do this but I must break a promise to you. I will be unable to come for a visit next week. The urgency of this Spanish Influenza has everyone mad right now, cautioning travelers to stay put. Traveling by train is too big of a risk.**_

_**The outbreak of influenza has come close to home. Hundreds of people are being hospitalized daily, many of them dying. I'm growing weak in body just hearing of the suffrage. The Red Cross has set up camps everywhere to help the sick. My own selfless mother is volunteering for them in hopes to save a life. **_

_**Each night I still look at the stars, each night I am reminded of your love. Even though time is standing still, I hope to see you soon. **_

_**Eternally yours,**_

_**Edward. **_

I read the letter so many times, my eyes no longer needed to see the manuscript to know what it said. Edward wanted to leave. He wanted to fight a war and forget me. I was going to lose him, and I was too far away from him to change his mind. It wasn't impossible to think that the war would be over soon and Edward may never see the draft. I needed to reason with him, to beg him. After receiving and reading his dreadful letter, I quickly penned a response to him in hopes to change his mind. It was my last letter to him, the letter that never received a response. The fateful letter that positioned me to do the extreme.

_**August 14th, 1918**_

_**Dearest Edward, **_

_**I miss you more and more with each day. Even the birds around me have quit singing, as my sadness has somehow projected upon nature. The sun shines only out of obligation. And like me, the stars are growing wearier by the second. I am somewhat crestfallen at the news of your cancellation. I had looked forward to seeing you soon. But I understand. Some things are completely unforeseeable. More so than my immediate disappointment, I am more upset by your desires to join in this war. **_

_**Perhaps, I'm out of place, but I beg of you to not act so foolishly. Your mother and father are correct, please obey their wishes. The war is terrible and my heart would dissolve if I lost you. This separation is enough torment for one soul to endure; I won't be able to live if you leave and go off to war. Please don't talk of such things. Please reconsider. **_

_**I have good news. I've saved enough money, and as soon as I turn 18, I will be on the next train to Chicago. My life is there with you. Please say you accept my coming. I plan to attend school and live with Auntie Matilda. But I need to know you want me there. I need to know that you will stay. I have no life in Chicago without you. I have no life anywhere without you. It is only because I have the promise of your love that I wake each morning. **_

_**Time stands still without you and I need to be closer to you. My heartbeat is slower when I'm away from you. The promise of your love is all I have in this life. It's all I want. **_

_**My father is not returning home and my mother despises all forms of life. I hardly speak to her. She is lost in her own sorrow and I worry she may not live another day. She is growing considerably worse in her misery. Many nights, she doesn't come home. **_

_**I'm sorry you are so upset with your own family and with school. I vow to you to make life better when I return to Chicago. I can commiserate with you. The selfishness of the people I'm surrounded by is loathsome. The folks here in Boston are only concerned with baseball and their precious Babe. I have no interest in either. **_

_**I must say goodbye as responsibility calls my name. Mr. and Mrs. Scholz do not like for me to be tardy. They are out for the day and I promised them an early arrival. They are a nice couple and I will genuinely miss their sweet children when I move. **_

_**Please write to me soon. **_

_**Always and forever,**_

_**Bella**_

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Chapter End Notes:

**_Well that's chapter two. I hope you enjoyed it. I'm so passionate about this story. Your reviews are always welcome._**


	3. Chapter 3: Saying Goodbye

Disclaimer: Twilight and it's characters, settings, likeness, awesomeness and greatness do not belong to me. That includes Edward.

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Time Stands Still

Chapter 3: Saying Goodbye

I could always depend on my memories to carry me away from the burdens of my mind. As I often found myself doing, I sat alone, thinking of happier times spent with Edward. The choices before me were clear; my rationale, however, was not. And my exhausted mind searched for happier thoughts.

"What, exactly, do you love about Chicago?" Edward asked me on a cold December evening. We sat close on the over sized sofa in the front parlor of Auntie Mattie's home. The flames in the fireplace cracked in tandem with the falling snow outside. The only sound to be heard between our conversation was the roar of the fire, and the hard steady beat of my heart.

Edward came for afternoon tea and, as usual, it turned into an extended visit. I thought it rather precarious that Auntie Mattie would leave Edward and I alone, but that was her nature. Not many adults trusted young couples to be alone. Renee had taken off earlier that morning to meet up with some new Chicago friends. Murray was only four years older than I was, and I was rather embarrassed by her relationship with him. Auntie Mattie was not too fond of him either. I had heard her voice this opinion many times through heated arguments with my mother. I had never met Murray, personally, but I assumed him to be a monster by Auntie Mattie's intolerance of him. His criminal record spoke for itself she had said. "There will come a time when all you're left holding is your regrets," Auntie Mattie told her in vain.

"Bella," Edward urged me to answer his previous question. I took in a deep breath and redeployed my thoughts. Edward was always inquiring about some aspect of my life. His insistence was a certainty, but I was not annoyed in the least bit. I found myself a little exhausted at times, but his admiration was very endearing. I seemed to be an enigma for Edward, some mystery that he could not solve. The world around him was very clear and predictable. He had no trouble reading thoughts or understanding people—apart from myself.

The glow of the flames cast a marvelous light on Edward's famous crooked grin, and I smiled in response to his charisma. I exhaled the deep breath I had been holding before answering him. "It's a great city. The buildings are beautiful monstrosities. The streets are always busy. And I love school," I replied brightly, knowing my response would not satisfy his curiosity.

"Do you miss home?" he asked, fulfilling my prediction. His gaze scorched me and I could hardly think when I was around him. "I miss my father. But Chicago is the first place I feel like I belong."

"I hope I have some part in that," he said just above a whisper, his fingers grazing across mine. I only grinned in response. Edward made a great difference in my life. When Renee and I first came to the city, Auntie Mattie said I needed to find my smile. I had not understood how to do that, until Edward came into my life.

"What is your favorite part of Chicago," I asked him echoing his previous question.

"Lincoln Park Zoo, it has one of the largest collections of animals in the nation," he responded abruptly.

"Really," I mused. His fingers still lolled against mine, and my heart raced as his skin felt like molten lava against my fingers. I secretly thanked my dear aunt for permitting Edward and I the freedom to be together, allowing me these memories.

"I wasn't aware that you visited the zoo that often," I said skeptically. Edward always tried to surprise me with some whimsical answer to any question I presented.

"Well, I don't necessarily. But I admire it just the same," he retorted slyly. I accepted his answer for the half-tale that it was. Soon enough, I was lost in thoughts once again of my mother and father.

"Isabella," Edward sang out.

"Edward, you know how I hate to be called that," I snipped half-heartedly.

"Yes, love. But it is my only weapon to retrieve you from your thoughts. That wonderful parade in your mind."

"I'm sorry. I seem a bit preoccupied, do I?" I asked, knowing all too well that I was not being attentive. My father was constantly at the center of my thoughts. Although I had accepted never seeing him again, acceptance and solitude did not share company, and I was left feeling very helpless.

"Bella, I'm very sorry." Edward had become attuned to my thoughts and emotions. Everything I went through, everything I felt, he understood. Perhaps all of his quizzing had paid off. "Love, I wish a thousand times over that I could make a difference."

Edward grabbed my hands and brought them to his lips. His warmth and purity instantly flowed through me. I burrowed myself closer to him, allowing my face solace in the strength of his shoulder. He hugged me tight and the tears began to fall. If I was going to break into a million pieces, I wanted Edward to be the one to put me back together. I continued sobbing into Edward's embrace, mourning the loss of my father, and the distance of my mother. Edward rocked me gently, smoothing my hair away from my tear streaked face. He lightly hummed a melody into my ear and I eventually lulled off to sleep in his soothing arms. My dreamland stupor was interrupted by Edward's warm lips on my forehead. "Goodbye, sweet Bella," he whispered against my skin. The only thing in my life that caused me more pain than losing my parents was saying goodbye to Edward.

Those many afternoons of conversation masked by welcomed inquisition gave my life a new purpose. I loved Edward greatly. The months passed on and our relationship grew into a remarkable bond. We were more than friends, stronger than lovers; I was orbitally connected to Edward in an unexplainable way.

Leaving Chicago, I deemed, felt worse than dying. At least in death, you are giving up a beating heart. Moving away from my home, I was leaving my incentive for my heart to beat. Without Edward, I was nothing. He had become my strength and the core of my survival.

Edward stood with me at the train station, both of us dreadful of the impending goodbye. I looked at the large towering clock, disappointed that I had only fifteen minutes left with him. I stared intently at his face, memorizing the deep green color of his eyes. With my finger, I traced the lines of his jaw and chin, committing to memory every perfection and imperfection alike. I had prepared for this moment since the announcement was made. But the pain was more violent than I realized. My brave pretenses were no match for my emotions, and swiftly I was betrayed by my tears.

"Bella, dear, don't be sad. Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow," he smiled through the Shakespearean quote, knowing it was one of my favorites.

"That I shall say good night till it be morrow," we replied in whispered unison. Edward grabbed my hands and cupped them in his palms. His touch was gratifying in a tormenting way. Not to feel his warm, lively skin against mine was a harsh reality that I could not bear. I had grown accustomed to his touch, his words, his laugh.

"Isabella, it's almost time, hurry with the goodbyes dear," my mother impatiently informed me. "Goodbye Edward, you'll visit soon, yes?"

"Of course, Mrs. Swan. Keep my dear Bella safe," he said politely, but the rigid implication was well executed. My mother knew that I belonged with Edward more than I ever belonged with her. Her insistence on my departure was impractical and cruel. I belonged in Chicago; I belonged with Edward. She was keeping her motives from me, I could sense it. I couldn't imagine that Boston could bring her anymore happiness than she had here. Happiness wasn't subjective to location. Her misery was mostly self-inflicted, evidenced by the people she associated with. The time had come and now she was holding regrets, yielding my happiness in her suffrage.

Edward hugged my mother and she glanced briefly at me before turning away. Her eyes were barren and reflected guilt, telling me she was well aware of what she was doing to me. Edward and I remained silent until she boarded the train.

"Bella, the gentleman in me wishes to refrain, and tend to my manners. But my heart longs to kiss you." I could only look permissively into his limitless emerald eyes. His face moved closer to mine, and his breath became a breeze of contentment against my face. If I stood in that very spot for eternity, it would not be long enough. He slowly, precisely placed his lips against my own, and passionately, softly kissed me. I responded forcefully at first, keeping the movement of my lips with the rhythm of my heart. Edward moved his hands to my jaw and I relaxed into his succulent, moist lips. His lips were like clouds, volatile yet calm, offering peace but with the potential to elicit thunder and lightning. With just one more ounce of vigor, I would surely explode in response to Edward's fervent motion. As my mind floated away from me, forgetting my worries, Edward broke free.

That was the moment my heart shattered. The moment when time stood still and I realized that my love would be gone from my life—even if for a short time. I clung desperately to him, not wanting to let go. Part of me longed for my mother to run from the train, to change her mind. But, I knew the only running my mother was capable of was from her problems. Leaving Chicago was nothing more than a feeble attempt at avoiding her troubles. In the wake of her madness, I was dying…slowly, but certainly dying. She might as well rip my soul out and set it afire, because that would hurt less than losing Edward.

****************************

Edward's memories were all that was left. It had been weeks since his last letter. Yesterday proved to be unfruitful in the completion of my second plea, and time was running out. My eighteenth birthday was just five days away. My impending departure growing closer, and my fear of finding Edward gone was swelling also. I could not wait for him to respond by mail. I only had one option; I needed to get to Chicago, and quickly. I had to stop him from making a mistake. I had to persuade him to not follow through and become a war casualty like I presumed my father to be.

The Scholz's sweetly gave me twenty dollars cash as a parting gift. I pulled my suitcase out from under the bed and placed in it what few belongings I had. A few clothing items, a couple of books, Edward's letter, and a photo of me with my mother and father.

On the piece of paper once destined to be a letter to Edward, I wrote a note to my mother. Saying goodbye to her was harder than I expected. But it was only the formality of goodbye, she had exited my life many moons ago.

**Dear Mother,**

**I'm saddened to leave you this way. I trust you to carry on well and expect to hear from you soon. I'm moving back to Chicago. It is my home. My heart belongs there with Edward. Please do not fret, I will board with Auntie Mattie and complete high school. I will write you as soon as I settle. Please take care of yourself.**

**Love always,**

**Isabella**

I had to escape Boston at that very moment while I still had the courage. I couldn't risk losing Edward. Even if the margin was slim, and it was, I had to see Edward. If I couldn't dissuade him from joining the army, I could at least give him a proper goodbye, an incentive to return to me. I hurriedly ran the four blocks to the train station, narrowly boarding before last call. I made my way to the back of the car and settled into the worn seat. Adrenaline pulsated through my veins. I could hardly contain myself enough to sit still on the seat of the train. With each passing blur, I was closer to Edward. I hoped it wasn't too late. Uncertainty loomed in my mind, dispensing doubt over my bravery. I hoped his failure to write me back could be explained and that he had not gone off to war.

The metal of the train and the track clanked vociferously; a provisional rhythm symbolizing my awaiting outcome. I was headed for a new life, no matter what. Turning back would be cowardice. I fidgeted with the frayed cloth of the seat in front of me. I tried to read my shabby copy of "Romeo and Juliet" but my eyes refused to see the words, everything in existence was a blur. The train car was virtually empty; other than myself, there were three other passengers. I leaned my head against the glass window. The cool pane calmed my nerves and my heartbeat stilled. I closed my eyes and when I awoke the train car was dark. I could no longer make out the fields of green or the rolling hills. The night darkness was illuminated only by the stars, and the occasional lights of an intermittent town. My settled nerves began to swell once again as Chicago inched closer. I had left my mother, and blindly came to claim my love for Edward. My actions were unheard of, senseless. I was chasing after Edward, with no assurance that he was even in Chicago. With that revelation, fear took control and I bit my tongue to keep from screaming.

"Are you okay, Miss?" A young woman across the aisle said. She couldn't have been more than thirty or thirty-one.

"Um, yeah. Just a little nervous."

She crossed the aisle to sit next to me. It was apparent that the quiet ride was unnerving both of us, and simplistic company was a good deterrent from the plague of worries.

"I'm going to visit my mother. She's ill with the influenza and, well, I hope I make it in time."

"I'm sorry."

"Is your family sick as well?" she asked, genuinely concerned.

"No. Not that I'm aware. I'm moving to Chicago to live with my aunt," I explained.

"A new adventure awaits everyone in Chicago. You shall find what you're looking for dear. I just know it."

"I hope you're right."

"I'm Carrie, by the way," she extended her hand to me formally.

"Bella," I said as I returned her gesture.

"Nice to meet you sweet Bella," she said brightly. Carrie was warm and sincere. She reminded me of my mother before Charlie left. Although somewhat spontaneous and flighty, Renee had her own redeeming qualities. Unfortunately, she misplaced them when my father left. It had been months since we received word from him, and his void left an aching numbness inside of me. I missed my father, and now all I had left was Edward. And his place in my life I was unsure of.

Carrie must have registered the sadness on my face. "Bella, is everything alright?"

"Oh, yes," I lied. Although Carrie was pleasant, I was not comfortable allowing my innermost hesitations to be a subject of discussion. I had hidden those fears deep within my heart.

"What's his name?"

"Excuse me?" I scowled.

"Bella, your eyes say that there is a special someone in Chicago. What's his name?"

"Edward."

I spent the remainder of the train ride explaining to Carrie my peculiar situation. She was an incredible listener, and I realized how void my life had been of a friendly ear. I wished Carrie well and said goodbye to her when the train stopped. I wasted no time to gather my belongings and get to Auntie Mattie's house.

After several knocks, I grabbed the hidden key under the mat and unlocked the door. When I entered the big Victorian house, my footsteps echoed in the front hall against the hardwood floors. "Auntie Mattie," I called out into the vacant house. When I was satisfied she wasn't going to answer I made the familiar path across the expensive Parisian rugs and to my room upstairs. It looked untouched. The white chenille bedspread invited me to rest, but I refrained. Promising aloud that I would be back later to enjoy its soft comforts. I dumped the suitcase on the velour arm chair, and went back downstairs. I entered the kitchen, searching for a crumb of food. There was no milk or eggs in the icebox, and I assumed Auntie Mattie had been out for awhile. It was commonplace for her to travel, she had homes scattered across the country. Extended trips were for her, what a trip to the marketplace was for some. She wasn't expecting me for another week, so I would just settle in until she arrived back home.

I heard a knock on the door, and precariously went to answer. I gingerly opened the door and greeted Mr. Howard, the next door neighbor. "Hello, Miss Swan," he said warmly.

"Good day Mr. Howard."

"I promised Matilda I would take in her mail while she was away. Can you see that she gets it?"

"Oh, yes, of course," I smiled. Auntie Mattie had a sweet spot for the older gentleman, and he returned the favor. I found their bashful admiration lovely.

I took the stack of envelopes and catalogs to place on the hall table where Auntie Mattie could find them. She would be arriving home soon, and my whereabouts would be uncertain. My heart raced thinking, hoping, that I would be with Edward. Trapped somewhere deep in my thoughts, I carelessly dropped one of the letters. I almost stepped over it in my rush to leave. Upon retrieving it from the floor, I realized it was addressed to my mother. I instantly recognized the sender's name as a friend of my father's from Forks. I could think of only one reason why Mr. Clearwater would try to contact my mother. By instinct, I opened the letter, fearing the worst possible scenario.

Dear Mrs. Swan,

It is with deep regret that I write to you. I received a telegram today on your behalf. I thought it only right that I should write to you the message sent from the US Army. It seems that your husband and my friend, Charlie, has been missing in action for quite some time. According to his platoon sergeant he went missing after a failed mission on June 15, 1918. At the time he was believed to be a prisoner, but the captives were released on August 25th. His whereabouts are unknown. It is with great sorrow I tell you this, but Charlie is presumed to be dead—killed in combat.

Charlie was a great man and he served our country well. It is with pride and dignity I call him a friend. I extend to you and your family my condolences and sorrow.

Jack Clearwater

_Confirming my worst fears, the letter fell from my fingertips as I stood silently, absorbing the horror of my father's fate. Unbelief stabbed my heart and I could only cry out into the emptiness around me. _Shocked and shattered, I ran from the house to find Edward; to find the one person that could offer me comfort.

I couldn't think clearly for the racing thoughts. My vision was blurred from the incessant tears flowing out in a river of pain. Before I saw it, my knees crashed into a wooden barricade at the corner of Edward's street. I screamed out in pain, as the scrapes burned my flesh, blood trailing from my knees. I fell face first onto the street, landing at the feet of a police officer.

"These streets are closed miss," he said lowering his face to meet mine. Through my painful sobs I begged him, "Please, I have to find him. I need him."

"This area is quarantined, you don't belong here." He braced my elbow and pulled me up off the street. I smoothed the hem of my skirt back down, my knees riving with pain.

"But, I need him," I pleaded. "Where is Edward?" I asked incoherently.

"Who?" he asked.

"He lives on this street. I need him...he's my..." I sighed. "He's my...Edward."

"Miss, this street has been closed off for five days. I'm only patrolling here to make sure no one enters. I don't know any Edward. But most of the residents of this neighborhood were taken to St. Joseph's Hospital for treatment."

I stepped forward, stumbling from the searing pain in my knee.

"People are dying from this Spanish Influenza, you watch yourself."


	4. Chapter 4: Expired

Disclaimer: Twilight and it's characters, settings, likeness, awesomeness and greatness do not belong to me. That includes Edward.

Time Stands Still

Chapter 4: Expired

After an excruciatingly painful walk, one swollen knee, and forty minutes later, I entered St. Joseph's hospital. The hospital was enormous, so finding Edward would be a near impossible feat. I filtered through the thick crowd of people, my knees growing weaker with each step. Hoards of people flocked every open space between the gurney lined corridors and blanket pallets on the floor. The sounds of coughing, moaning, and crying drowned out my thoughts. I had no idea where to begin. If I searched floor by floor, room by room, I could be here for days.

I entered through the first set of metal doors, hoping to find someone who could help me. The stench of death and devastation far surpassed the industrial smell usually present at hospitals. My sadness intensified as I realized the pain these people and their families were facing. My heart broke thinking that Edward was among them.

My eyes scanned the room looking for someone who was not ill that could help me in my quest. I pushed past the mass of people and found the nurse's desk. I tapped lightly on the desktop to attract the attention of the nurse bent over the bottom drawer.

"Name," her harsh voice squawked as she sat upright, thumbing through the medical charts in her hands.

"Uh. Bella Swan," I said. She never looked at me, and I searched her face for some recognition of empathy. None was to be found. Any compassion she once possessed was gone, obliterated by the obvious destruction surrounding her.

"What are your symptoms?" she barked.

"I don't have symptoms, I am not sick," I said informatively. That seemed to get her attention, and she glared up threateningly at me. Her stare hardened as I started to speak again.

"I am looking for Edward Masen."

She looked down at the wooden desk for a moment and then back at me.

"If you are not sick, you have no business here. This is not the visitors' center." I met her hard glare, studying her eyes. They told a story of desperation and exhaustion. The same expression was written on every other woman in a white nurse's dress and cap. This influenza had taken a toll on every person in the hospital equally. I would have felt pity for her, but my emotions were consumed by my fear and potential loss. I straightened my shoulders, and took a deep breath in.

"Ma'am, please help me. You are my last hope of finding him before I collapse completely." I narrowed my eyes and bore into her. I was serious in my mission and either she was going to help me or she was not, but I did not have the time nor the energy to waste continuing to beg for her assistance.

"I have patients to contend with. Sick patients, who need me straight away."

"If you will just help me then you will be rid of me and you can tend to your patients," I assured with a warm smile. Defeated, she turned to walk away and immediately I followed her down the hall. Her intolerance was deafening through the loud grumbles she spat at me through gritted teeth. She unlocked the office door and motioned me inside.

"In these ledgers are lists of all the patients we have seen in the last month. If your Edward is here, he will be listed in these files." Without further instruction she stalked out of the tiny room, still grumbling. I looked through the endless stacks of papers, reading across names, dates, and medical histories. It would take hours to read through the lists. I was not certain I had hours. I needed to find him soon. If Edward was sick, the outcome was absolute. And I at least wanted to tell him that I loved him. I sat down in the leather chair behind the desk. My mind began torturing me with visions of Edward's sick and feeble body, dying in a metal hospital bed, alone. I had to get to him; I could not stand the images my mind was processing. I rubbed my head fiercely until the thoughts dissipated and my mind revived better memories.

* * *

"Bella, it is in your best interest to promise me you will always be mine." Edward was being light hearted, amusing me with his odd humor and overly confident disposition. Edward liked to pursue, and persuade me. It was quickly becoming a past time to him, always trying to outdo the last attempt. But he knew that my heart belonged to him. My devotion and unfaltering love for him was evident.

"My best interest, really?" I asked slyly, engaging in the banter that he loved. When he did not respond I glanced up to see him pull a small black box out of his inside jacket pocket. My hand began shaking as he extended the box toward me. I should have assumed he would have a gift, it was after all St. Valentine's Day. I had only moments before given him a card expressing my sentiments for him.

"Bella, for you." He raised the top of the hinged velvet box open to reveal a beautiful gold butterfly shaped ring. The center boasted three beautiful marquise sapphires—my birthstone—and the wings were each intricately adorned with smaller sapphires and diamonds. The ring was breathtaking. Like like a masterful piece of art, I was captivated as the light bounced through the grooves of gold. My eyes had never happened upon anything more beautiful, except of course for Edward himself. I felt undeserving of his love and his gift, yet in silence I thanked God above for allowing me the opportunity. He delicately slid the ring on my shaking finger. He stroked my skin with his nimble fingers, and brought my hands to his lips.

"Hawthorne once said 'happiness is like a butterfly which, when pursued, is always beyond our grasp, but, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.'

"Bella, you are my butterfly. You are the soft beauty that I want every day. I feel extremely fortunate to have fallen in love with you. I pledge my heart, my soul, and my life to you."

It was the first time he spoke the words. I had felt Edward's love many times; it was completely visible between us. The way my body reacted when he would weave his fingers through mine. The way my heart sped up when he would breathe in my scent. The way my thoughts would always float to him. In my mind I could see Edward, and assuredly knew that I was helplessly in love. But hearing him speak the words in his soft harmonious voice made my insides melt. The world was perfect.

I swallowed the thick lump forming in my throat and mouthed my appreciation to Edward. I immediately collapsed into his embrace, and spent the remainder of the evening there.

* * *

I had only just busied myself when I heard a voice call out from the hall.

"Bella?"

I turned to see a familiar face.

"Carrie," I said excitedly, but quickly cut my enthusiasm short. I had no time to waste on reunions, and could only muster a smile to greet her. My lips suddenly reversed as I realized how melancholy Carrie seemed.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I whispered, thinking back to our discussion on the train. I realized by the suffering displayed on her face that her mother must not have survived the Spanish Influenza.

"Bella, what are you doing?"

"I am looking for Edward. He is here. Or, he was," I whispered dejectedly. "I have to find his name," I explained.

Carrie joined me and compassionately offered to help. I was in no position to decline and I handed her the next stack of paperwork. With page after page and line after line, my hope faded. After an eternity of reading and searching I had all but given up hope. I rubbed my eyes and saw the names of Edward's mother and father. Elizabeth Masen on one line and just below it was Edward Masen Sr. Beside each name was written _expired_. Tears brimmed my eyes. Mr. and Mrs. Masen were gone. Expired. I could not believe it. What would Edward do without a mother or father? He loved them so. They were such kind people. My thoughts of condolence turned to fear, when I realized that Edward may be dead too. I turned to the next page and through a steady flow of tears read over each name. On the brink of suffocating from the lack of oxygen in the room, I saw it. His name. Edward A. Masen, barely legible with a line drawn through it. The space beside the letters of his name was blank, giving me a momentary inflated hope. I looked again, Edward A. Masen Jr., with a line drawn through it. What could that possibly mean? I searched through the names again; no other name had a line through it. Out of the hundreds of names, his was the only name with a line through it. Something peculiar had happened. Maybe by some miracle Edward had gotten better. Perhaps, he was transferred to another hospital. I was dizzy searching for an explanation within my tired mind. I clutched the paper with all my force. I handed the paper to Carrie and she studied it for awhile. "I do not understand. Why is his name just crossed off?" she asked.

"I do not know," I replied honestly. I sunk down onto the floor, feeling weak. My face was sweating profusely and I was shaking all over.

"Bella are you okay?"

"Oh, yes. I suppose I am just upset."

Carrie took the page from the desk, and left the room in an attempt to track down the first unsuspecting orderly she could find. "What does this mean?" she asked once she found someone who fit the part. I picked myself up and forced my weak legs to carry me to where she stood.

"He's not here," the man replied bitterly.

"What do you mean he is not here?" Carrie pressed.

"He's not at this hospital," the young man said sternly.

"Did he get better?" she asked hopeful.

"No one gets better."

"Then was he taken somewhere else?" she pressed.

"Perhaps he was never here," he said harshly.

"But his parents were here and his name is on the list," I interrupted trying to figure out this puzzle.

"He's not here," he stammered. "Now, quit wasting my time."

Carrie grimaced as the robust young man mercilessly shattered my hope. She glared until he was out of sight, mumbling her discontent for his wretched manners.

She faced me, presumably to offer pity, but her eyes stopped short and she spoke cautiously. "Bella, are you feeling well? You should probably try to rest."

"Carrie, no. I cannot," I whispered to her in a torn plea for understanding. I was feeling weak, and in a moment I had fallen to my knees, my body overcome with pain from my previous injury.

For weeks I had feared a premature death for Edward, blaming the war for staking a claim on his life. I had thought of our final goodbye. How I would kiss Edward goodbye as he left for the army, or assumptions were false, and any chance I had to tell Edward goodbye was gone. Before realizing it, I was sobbing in Carrie's arms. I raised my head up and she handed me a linen handkerchief.

"Bella, we will find him."

I wiped the moisture from my eyes and nose, and picked myself up. I tried to expunge the negative thoughts from my mind. Beside Edward's name was a blank space. If he were dead, it would have been written '_expired._'

I was barely able to think. The events of the day were almost too much for me to handle. My father presumed dead, Mr. and Mrs. Masen deceased, and possibly Edward was gone too. I wanted to go to sleep and wake up from this horrific nightmare. I wanted to wake up in Edward's arms and have him tell me everything would be okay.

"Bella, do not give up. We need to find Edward's doctor."

"How do we do that?"

"Well at the top of this page it has these patients belonging to Dr. Cullen. If we find him, he will be able to help us."

"I have to find this Doctor Cullen. He is my only chance," I admitted. I would stay all night, if it meant finding Edward.

Carrie and I scoured every hall, every room, asking everyone if they knew Dr. Cullen. No one could help. I began pacing the halls of the south wing, my body growing weaker with every forced step.

"We are looking for Doctor Cullen." I heard Carrie say. "Can you call for him?" Carrie persistently asked. I could not stand to hear the rejection again. I sat on the floor and buried my face against my knees.

Like all the other times her pleas were dismissed. "No I am sorry." My hope diminished as the words were repeated again. "Dr. Cullen is no longer here at St. Joseph's." And then hope died completely. Dr. Cullen gone?

"When did he leave? Where did he go?" Carrie latched on to the new revelation, trying to ascertain any information she could. I wanted to join her inquisition, but my body refused to move, finally giving in to the weight of the burdens upon me.

"I am sorry I do not know, I saw him earlier clearing his things."

"Where?"

"His office is just off this hall. But that was hours ago, he is long gone now."

I heard Carrie stomp down the hall, my mind went blank and I began to feel dizzy.

My heart felt like it had been stabbed by a million blades. I sank into a deep hole, my soul breaking beneath the weight of my failure. Through tears and gasps, I heard a soft smooth voice speak to me. "Miss." I felt long cool fingers graze against my cheek, cooling the heat of my flesh. "Miss," he repeated, "you need to come with me." Before I could protest, I was being carried off by the soft voice. He placed me on a stiff bed, and I forced myself to look at him. I looked up to meet the warmest, oddest two eyes I had ever seen. "I am Dr. Cullen, and I can help you."

"You are Dr. Cullen?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Do you know where Edward Masen is?"

He shifted his feet, a momentary recognition crossed his face, and then he spoke. "I am very sorry but I do not know any Edward."

"He is a patient of yours. His mother and father were too, but they are," I searched for the words, feeling as if I was betraying Edward by just saying the word, "expired." I felt shivers across my spine as the horrid word passed my lips. "Can you please help me? I need to find him. I need to know if he is _expired_ too."


	5. Chapter 5: Symphony

Authors Note:

I humbly apologize to those of you who have enjoyed this story for not updating.

My thank yous: To my cheerleaders, Btvsna, LJSummers, Miss__Bratt, and Mombailey, it would be an impossibility for me to do any of this without your help, knowledge, support, and critique. To My Brand of Heroin, my beta, thanks for all you do!!! And to Adipocere, thank you for allowing me to see the need to revisit this story.

Disclaimer: This story was made possible because Stephenie Meyer envisioned this world and shared it with all of us. I own nothing.

Chapter 5: Symphony

**Carlisle's POV**

In all of the years spent in this life, I had surrendered every primal urge to partake in the one substance my kind needed, substituting my insatiable desires for human blood with that of animals. Trying to compensate for the evils of my fellow kind, I declared a purpose for myself, a penance with great sacrifice that would be its own reward. I had overcome the sensation to the smell and the unrelenting thirst, and had been able to resist the desire to kill simply because I had the power to do so. To dispose of human life was unnaturally repulsive to me, and the fact that sentence to a life in the body of a monster did not mean I had to become one in my soul.

If there had been another alternative for him, one that would have saved him, I would have pursued it, and the option of changing him would never have become more than a fleeting thought. His human life was far too precious to surrender to the heartless world I knew. Fate had stolen his choice, and only I could offer some semblance of mercy. I had watched humans die, naturally of course, without intervening. It was the nature of my job to save lives, and when I could not save their mortal life, I would allow them to cross into the next without interference.

However, his mother's eyes would change my course. Her deep green eyes spoke to me, petitioning me to honor her request. Her muted words begged me to save her son, to allow him another chance. She had faith that I had the power to save him, and in a way beyond the capabilities of a physician. Without a doubt, she understood exactly what I was, her intuition remarkably aberrant. In one frail moment of weakness, desperation, and loneliness, I took her pleading into my heart and made a decision that was not mine to make. For years, I entertained the thought of creating another being like myself. Intrigued by the possibility, and secretly longing for some company. It was lonely and endless in this existence, and I was an outcast of my kind. Moreover, she implored me to save her son. "He has a special gift," she had said. "The world deserves him." I promised her that I would save him from death. I promised a dying, devoted mother that I would save her son.

His body lay before me weak and defeated. and would ultimately claim his young life. His feverish skin, glistening with sweat, warned me that his time was near. Between cracked and swollen lips, he could barely whisper out a moan. Blood caked the sides of his mouth, reminders of the brutal fits of coughing he had endured the night before. I had seen this for months, the same symptoms, the same course of treatment, and the same outcome. The Spanish Influenza was a monster worse than my own breed. Each person afflicted with the disease was a victim to the harsh effects of dying a slow agonizing death. His mother and father both were gone, and he was rapidly declining in an effort to join them.

Clinging only to the repeated poetry of a delirious mind, "time stands still," he would say, barely audible. If not for my superb supernatural hearing, I may not have even made the words out. The evening came, and within breaths of his death, I had a choice to make. I could give this special young man a chance at immortality. I could raise him as my own son and teach him my ways, and I could honor my promise to his mother by changing him and allowing his special gifts into the world. In that instant, I wavered from my steadfast, self-pronounced convictions, and I extended myself the privilege of changing this extraordinary young man into my son and companion.

The process of conversion was a new experience for me and went against everything my heart and head had ever told me. It had literally been ages since my own rebirth, and I prayed that I would be able to make this as painless for Edward as possible. Wetting my lips, I leaned over the frail, porcelain skin of his emaciated neck, and I quickly bit deep through the epidermal layers to his carotid artery. His body tensed under my grip, and I could feel him begin to tremble. Repeatedly, I bit into the most sensitive of areas, focusing on the integral arteries that strategically littered his body. A second seizure ripped through his body, and I knew I only had very few brief moments to remove his body from the hospital.

I waited until the hospital had quieted for the evening, and at midnight shift change, I carried his body to my waiting car outside the morgue entrance. My devotion and purpose was protecting my son. Chicago would not be safe, and I had to remove him as quickly as possible. In the torturous three days of his conversion, I would give my notice and bid farewell to a city that I loved.

I was elated not to be alone and my new life owned every one of my thoughts. Edward would surely make a great difference to this existence; I thought my choice could not have been more perfect. However, on my last day at St. Joseph's I realized that my choice might have been questionable.

I heard her heartbeat, frantic, before I entered the hall. I had spent most of my day doing a final check on my patients and boxing my things, acting out the formality of leaving in front of my peers. I had only arrived moments ago to complete paperwork and wrap up my career at St. Josephs.

I saw her lying on the cold floor, the light of day, what was left of it anyway, slowly creeping in through the windows. Her deep chocolate eyes begged me long before she spoke. She was the same as all the others and yet her pain seemed..._deeper_. I could sense her body was near collapse and as she shook through bated breaths and tears, "Miss," I spoke to get a reaction. She lied very still and I reached to touch her face. The impossible frigid temperature of my fingers was comfort to her blazing flesh, a scorch I recognized all too well. "Miss," I repeated, "you need to come with me." I lifted her from the floor with ease and carried her to an empty room across the hall. Her deep brown eyes pierced me, begging me long before she ever spoke the words. Beads of sweat formed in lines across her forehead and her skin was as insipid as my own. I greeted her as I would any patient, and although I needed to be on my way, to live my life with my newly created son, I felt compelled to linger by her side to try to comfort her in what I was certain was her last few hours. "I'm Dr. Cullen, and I can help you." Recognition flooded her sweaty features, and her eyes widened as if we were long time acquaintances.

"You're Dr. Cullen?" she asked hopeful.

"Yes," I replied.

"Do you know where Edward is?"

I shifted on my feet quickly as I debated running away. Was she talking about the Edward that I had altered only a while ago? The Edward that I stole from the grasp of death? Had I mistakenly taken his life believing he was alone, when in fact he was not? _"Edward is now my son,"_ I should have said. I saved him; I did the right thing. I should have acknowledged my good deed to her, but even I knew that thought was one of pure hypocrisy.

I cleared my face of any emotion and I folded my arms across my chest and falsely replied, "I'm very sorry but I do not know any Edward."

The lie burned as it formed and passed through my lips like a vile poison.

"He is a patient of yours. His mother and father were too, but they are," she paused, her eyes glazed over in stoic regret. "Expired," she finally continued. Her body shook from the fever raging inside of her, the first movement she had mustered since I placed her in the bed. "Can you please help me? I need to find him," she pleaded through tears. "I need to know if he is _expired _too."

"What is your name, dear?" I asked trying to alleviate her thoughts and focus on her deteriorating state of health. I removed the stethoscope from around my neck, it was more of a decoration than a necessary tool, but I used it habitually to keep up the charade. Her heartbeat was rapid, and unsteady. I had taken the one person she seemed to love. Could I also be the one to tell her she was dying?

"Bella. Isabella Swan," she replied softly.

"And Bella, why are you looking for Edward?" I asked, moving the chest-piece to her back to listen to her lungs. She was too weak to take in deep breaths, and I allowed her to lie back down. Her body seemed so frail, so thin.

"You remember," she whispered.

"Miss Swan, I've seen hundreds of patients the past few weeks. All of them ill and all of them, after some time, become a blur of lives that I was unable to save," I said regretfully.

"Edward is my love. I moved back to Chicago to be with him. But I'm afraid it's too late." The words were full of sorrow and hurt, the mere act of speaking them left her exhausted, and vulnerable. I could see the desperation play out across her tear streaked face, her brow furrowed in pain, and covered in droplets of sweat. She lifted her head to speak again but all that came out was a rage of coughs.

I took a handkerchief from my pocket and wiped the sweat from her forehead. I would not leave this poor, defenseless girl alone; she deserved more than that.

"Bella, I'm going to get you a gown, and get you checked in. I'll see to it that you're taken care of."

"I'm dying aren't I?"

"I am very sorry, but I do believe you have this influenza. I assure you that I will do everything within my power..."

"Please, I have to know about Edward." Her eyes pled with me as her body started shaking with each cough. "He is my whole life. The only good thing I have ever had. I have to know before..." she trailed off too exhausted to continue.

The level of her emotion pierced into my depths far beyond what any sword could ever reach. If my being had a soul, it was shattered and burned in that moment. It seemed so unfair that two young lovers be torn from each other just as their love was blossoming. I could not look away from her; the pain etched into her face was the punishment I deserved for stealing away her love, her whole life, the only good thing she had ever known. Her tears fell silent as her body, weak with exhaustion finally stilled. Her lids closed and her head lolled for a moment against the hospital pillow. I could only drop my head in disbelief, pity and guilt consuming my very existence. That is when I saw the ring on her finger. The butterfly. He had mentioned a butterfly many times and I equated the murmurs to delirium from the illness, but perhaps young Edward was trying to tell me about her and I chose not to listen.

She was dying; there was no argument about that. I could make restitution, I could take the opportunity as it presented itself, and I right my wrong. For the second time in three sunsets, I made a hasty decision and took a dying body from the one place of refuge a human should be able to depend on. I could not change the outcome but I could certainly give her a goodbye and allow her to see him one last time.

**Bella's POV**

Burning flesh, nightmarish thoughts and unimaginable pain was all I had left. There was a great veil of fog over my eyes, but through the blur, I could make out an automobile. It was not exactly dark, but the sun had retired for the evening, and the light of the earth was dismal and powerless. I was floating across the air in a smooth, effortless motion. It was almost calming until the ball of fire in my chest raged, constricting my muscles so tight that the air escaped my lungs with such force I screamed. "Shh, it's okay," a low gentle voice said. The trail of pain burned through my nose and mouth and I was unable to reply. A pair of cool fingers graced my forehead, "it's going to be okay." The motion continued again. I faintly heard a shrilling siren, and then a door slammed. My body felt relieved by the soft velour of the backseat. It seemed to lessen the pain in my chest left by the fire. I wanted to see where I was, but all around me was darkness, blurred darkness. I could feel the movement of the car, and the sirens had silenced. I was no longer floating. A moan escaped my lips as the car bumped across the pavement and onto a dirt road. I could hear the tires crunching against the surface beneath me. I tried to feel concern for the situation; I was in an unknown car, going to an unknown place. Nevertheless, I could not fret. There was nothing or no one that could rob me of anything more. Everything I needed had been stripped from me and tossed aside. My family, my Edward...and then my very life were gone.

The door snapped open and I looked to see a man with dark trousers kneeling down to carry me. _Dr. Cullen_. I had not been floating after all. His arms were like clouds descending down to comfort me, possibly to save me. I did not understand his meaning of taking me from the hospital, but I could trust the artisan. Trust was the only vice I had left. He could not save Edward, nor could he admit it. He did not have to. When I spoke Edward's name, his jerk reaction was enough proof. His brow stitched with disquietude and remorse at the mention of my beloved.

"Bella, can you open your eyes?" I yearned to obey the simple command and eventually my eyelids fluttered open. My head felt compressed, as if I had been hanging upside down for days. My ragged breath boomed vociferously in the dark night, the silence beckoning peace, and for me it was entirely unattainable. The wind swirled around me and in the circles of darkness; I had to close my eyes once more. I imagined the stars, the moon, somewhere above me and could only think of my sweet Edward, and in my soul I hoped with much fervor that he was somewhere beneath those same stars. Time had stood still for so long, and now it was passing me by; time was running out. The depths of my love, my devotion, never to be explored in their entirety. The absence of him would leave my soul incomplete. My heart treaded upon by some paltry trick of fate and left to sink into a dismal interstice where it would remain for eternity. Bitterness begged to consume me as I silently cursed whatever fate allowed my life to end so cruelly.

I opened my eyes in an unfamiliar place, and in the pale light I could only see that I was lying in a bed inside a tiny room. From an open window I felt a waft of air float by, and then a melodic chorus of crickets began to sound just outside the window. Would this be the last sound to fall on my ears? Time was trickling down as the end was slowly approaching.

The fire raged again, convulsing my body with violence and depravity seeking to destroy me with hate and vengeance. The blaze burst through my nose and mouth like lava, leaving me breathless and weak. Dr. Cullen placed a cloth across my face and I could see that when he removed it was stained dark crimson. I was no longer warring with the vile poison beneath my flesh. The war was over, and the defeat clear. If death were an ocean, I was surely clinging to the bottom. The ache and suffering subsided into something unfamiliar, yet I no longer cared. My heart had no reason to continue beating, Edward, my reason, was gone.

It's almost incomprehensible to understand death, the fading of life to a place of extraordinary unknowns. Death is something we fear most of our lives with great dread and woe. Yet, it is the only perfect certainty we have, and in sheer anticipation of its arrival we are left with great unsurpassable sorrow. As the actuality of death set in, I did not feel trepidation, or pain. Death was not an irascible agent of suffrage and carnage. I learned that leaving mortality was quite fulfilling as if all the pleasurable moments of my life were together in their totality, bringing me a new found sense of satisfaction. Every vision drifting through my mind was a memory of Edward, his whisper, his touch, his kiss. Life was slowly descending away from me and the process was contrastingly resplendent as the memories unfolded before me beautiful and abstract like petals of a rose falling to the ground after a strong rain. Even in their demise they are still radiant, still graceful. Edward had once said he thought of life as a symphony. The last symphony of my life played out beautifully and I clung to the last images I would see, his beautiful, crooked smile, the very smile that kept my heart beating. The harsh reality of our end effaced by the beautiful memories made out of sweet cherished love. Edward's love had been a solace for me when my very existence fought to surrender. And now as the orchestra played the last notes, Edward's love would carry me through. If a new beginning was the result of the end, I would go blissfully relishing in the smile and beauty of my one and only true love.

* * *

So what's going to happen next? How'd this chapter make you feel? Did you cry? I did...a lot. I want to challenge all of you that have never reviewed this story, or any story for that matter, to step out and break free and leave a review. It's very liberating. :)


	6. Chapter 6: Forever

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of it, characters, and story belong to Stephenie Meyer and Little Brown publishing. NO infringement intended.**

**A/N: Thank all of you for your support and encouragement. I know this story has been slow going due to my personal life. I hope this chapter clarifies the story some. And I hope you love the end to the beginning.**

**Thanks to meg and momb....**

**Time Stands Still**

**Chapter 6: Forever**

"I'm afraid of dying," I said shielding my eyes and clenching me teeth to fight off the increasing terror swelling inside of me. My efforts proved to be futile for the fear was rising from the pit of my stomach and sneakily crawling into my throat. I tried to swallow quickly, but my muscles were paralyzed from fear, so I pursed my lips together as tightly as I could and started silently counting away the last passing seconds of my life. It didn't seem fair to die so young.

"Oh, Bella. It is a wonder wheel not an angry pack of wolves." A slight chuckle escaped from Edward's amused grin. "I don't think there is any real risk," he assured me.

"I'm not so sure," I replied cautiously.

The metal contraption creaked and moaned as we moved further into the sky. The bucket swayed in the night air, and I gripped the lap bar for my life. The metal molded into my flesh as I clamped the bar tighter creating a blister from the force.

How did I allow myself to be so easily persuaded by the persistence of him? When he mentioned an outing to White Park, I assumed we would engage in a concert, silly sideshow, or the carousel. Playing with death had never come to mind.

"I would never let anything harm you, butterfly," he promised me, delicately prying my blistered fingers from the bar and interlacing them with his own. His hands were so warm and soft, and my fingers were now calloused and moist from the former strong hold.

"Are you not afraid?" I asked as calm and relief flooded over me in a torrent of love. The bucket moved once again, and we were only three spots from the tip-top.

"Imminent death would be a fair price to pay to hold your hand," he said warmly.

His smile surfaced and when his lips could grow no wider, his eyes continued the outward expression of happiness, shining like an ocean of emeralds. In that moment, I gasped. Not because I was suspended forty feet in the air, and not because the rickety metal bucket trembled in the Chicago wind, but because I was lost, absorbed by Edward's dazzling magnetism, his pure sincerity, and his warm devotion. _Love conquers all, including fear_, I thought, and I knew that I wanted the rest of my life to be spent with only him. Forever would not be long enough in his embrace.

It's an extraordinary sensation drifting from consciousness to the unknown, fading from life into oblivion. The transition is quick, rushed, and without surety. There's no room to teeter. You instantly know you're dying, eliminating any doubt that you may be saved. I felt sticky, hot…damp. Perspiration dripped from the locks of hair around my face, and my back was completely soaked from my blouse through the sheet on the bed. My lips were salty and coarse, and I had no ability to swallow. I felt the sensation of movement and noise around me, much like falling asleep on the train. I wanted to fade and be free of the torments raging inside of me. But each time I slipped into that place I was destined to be a part of, I would be altered back to the present world. Thoughts of my mother and Auntie Mattie would surface as consciousness loomed, and I felt sorrowful that I never said goodbye. And my father, would I see him in the after life? Then memories of Edward would take me away from the suffering, and wash me in peace.

My senses grew stronger to reveal I was still lying in a bed, my literal deathbed. I had found a peaceful rest in the midst of all this bedlam through memories and vivid dreams. How viciously inequitable that I be brought from a beautiful oasis of memories back to the veracity of suffrage, I thought. My hand suddenly became cool and I was aware of his unique presence. _Dr. Cullen._

"Bella, I need you to hang on for me." He brought his hand to my face and smoothed the hair away, offering a bit of relief to my clammy skin. "I need you to open your eyes."

_No,_ I silently protested. I feared that if I opened my eyes I would never return to the memories. Death would consume me with fury and all my bliss would be gone. "Please, open your eyes," he urged again. I was getting angry with him. He refused to tell me about Edward and was now keeping me from his memory. I owed him nothing. Awareness and cognition streamed in with a distorted shuffle, but I realized he was gone from the room. Pain surfaced and I found it hard to breathe.

"Bella, love." That familiar voice. _His_ voice. Soft, sweet, recognizably wonderful. It sounded more polished and refined, but distinctively the voice of my heart's love. He was calling to me from my memories and I had to return to it. I couldn't open my eyes and risk never hearing that voice again.

"Butterfly."

"Bella, please," his angel's voice pled softly.

_I'm coming, love. To you, to your arms. _I responded in my mind. I longed for the second when I could see him, touch him. All of my agony would soon be over as I joined him in death's hold.

I was so close. His voice was so clear. My mind moved back into a mode of awareness, and Carlisle nudged me gently. "Bella, open up your eyes. Edward's here."

That's all I needed to hear.

My lids fluttered open, the invasion of light almost too much, but I blinked away the bright spots until his face became clearer. He was Edward, and yet he was very different. His features were all intricately defined beneath a layer of marble flesh. He reminded me of Dr. Cullen. His lips were almost purple, and his eyes were bruised and coal black. What had happened to him? What had this doctor done? I was vexed with conflicted thoughts trying to ascertain what Edward appeared to be. It was obvious he was different, and since I had thought him dead, I concluded that the figure before me must be a spirit. Edward's ghost.

I grasped at comprehension, but none was to be found. Was I dreaming or dead? Was this my Edward? Had he been saved from the vile disease that was slowly claiming my life, or was I being afforded the opportunity to say goodbye to his ghost? Was Dr. Cullen some agent of the afterlife allowing us one last chance to be together?

"Butterfly," he whispered in an effortless melody. I studied his expression, concerned and reserved.

"Where are we, Edward?" I asked barely whispering, completely surprised when he heard me as if I had spoken clearly.

"Bella, it's okay. I'm here with you," he said rhythmically, placing his fingers against my lips lightly. He seemed scared to touch me, afraid that I'd break, but when tears began to escape from my eyes, he brushed them each away. He moved his fingers to my neck touching me as if it was the first time, or perhaps the last. Suddenly, Dr. Cullen interceded between us, pushing Edward away from me. As his fingers left my body, I felt closer to death than I ever had. The strange doctor pressed a damp cloth against my face and raised my body up. It hurt to be moved.

"Bella," he spoke hesitantly. "Edward's different to you, isn't he?"

I nodded in agreement, although I didn't understand exactly why.

"Let me apologize to you dear. It was erroneous for me to make a decision that would have such consequences as this. Edward has been changed from what he once was; I'm afraid it all is my fault."

My confusion only increased as he tried to explain and my body was too weak to fight.

"He's a ghost?" I asked, realizing how completely ridiculous my assumption must seem. But given the circumstances, I supposed it was as logical as any. Edward had been dying and now he was here. What other explanation was there?

"Not exactly," he replied somewhat amused. "Edward and I are...rather unique creatures. Immortal. Mythical."

I let his words soak in slowly. His face was terribly regretful and I immediately felt pity for him. He seemed so kind and compassionate despite the guilt that consumed him. He turned away from me, unable to look at me any longer.

"Bella, I suppose honesty is the best, and given your situation, I have nothing to gain or lose."

I stared intently at him, waiting for the silence to end.

"We are vampires. There is nothing human about us."

Before I could react, he was in the corner of the room, demonstrating that his declaration was, in fact, true. I trembled, but not from fear. The claim on my life was more than evident, and I was left with one small option.

"Save me," I begged. "Like you did for Edward."

"You don't know what you're asking. It's not a choice. I made a mistake with Edward. I will not do that to you." He was strong and steadfast, and my time to convince him was running short. My dying breath would leave me fighting for my love. "We have no beating heart, there is no blood through our veins. You don't want this, I assure you."

"Please," I continued to plead with the last bit of life in me. "Please!"

"I didn't give you this life, dear, and I'll be damned if I'll take it away."

"No, I suppose you didn't give me life, but Edward did. I belong with him."

"He's dangerous, volatile. He's different now. You don't realize the hazards."

"No. I saw his face and felt his touch. He is a part of me and I am a part of him. It doesn't matter what we are, or where we are, I'm begging you--don't take him from me."

"I just can't," he said solemnly, regret buried deep within his eyes.

"Then allow Edward to," I suggested.

"He won't be able to stop; he will kill you."

"Then I have absolutely nothing to lose."

"Do you believe in forever?" I asked him.

His response was delayed, no doubt trying to find the appropriate words to form an answer. When Edward spoke to me, it was like poetry, and the way he made me feel was revolutionary. For every incredible and great word he uttered to me, I knew there was sincerity and gentility behind it. That was just Edward. He was noble and gracious; his love was splendid perfection.

I was content to walk home in silence with him, one hand locked into his, and the other wrapped tight around the stuffed carnival prize. Even the terrifying ride on the Ferris wheel could not deter my heart from its brilliant place of happiness. Edward had colored my life with beauty and goodness, and my purpose to live and breathe was for him. And the fact that he returned my love with fervor and devotion filled me with delight.

The street lamps flickered in the cool night, voices in the distant rang out. I wondered if Chicago ever slept, ever rested. And, ironically through the bustle and excitement around me, I was at complete peace. I was whole, and perfect. I breathed in his scent just to remind myself that I wasn't in a dream.

Edward stopped walking and faced me. His eyes pierced into my very soul and set a fire through my veins. His lips began to move tentatively and he cleared his throat.

"Butterfly, I know not of a forever. Comprehension of eternity eludes me. When I'm with you, most of the time I can only anticipate the next moment, the next breath. But if forever exists, if somewhere there is a place that is eternal, I want no part of it unless it is with you. It would be a severe injustice to exist in a place where you do not. I belong with you, and I can not think of one single reason that would prevent me from spending forever by your side."

_It's hard to envision a world without mortality, a world in which forever is no longer a concoction of one's mind. The sun rises and sets, and it's as if you have only just begun. Where imagination and hope are lost, but all the while the new possibilities are endless. There is no future or past, only now. A world where time stands still._

_That is my world. And by my side is the only purpose I ever had for existing in any world. The reason that good is good and beauty is beautiful. It was impossible to think that fate or destiny would allow our love to exist within the life we had. A life considered atrocious and comtemptble, but a life that I was grateful for. And even eternity will not be long enough to thank fate for the gift of love. Carlisle was wrong. I didn't need a beating heart to love Edward, my love for him runs much deeper than the heart. My love for him is forever as time stands still._

**_End notes:_**

**A different twist on the happily ever after of Bella and Edward, what are you thoughts? My heart and soul are in this story, and I hope somehow it's touched you.**


	7. Eternally

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.**

**Time Stands Still: Eternally**

_**A/N: I had several ideas and directions I wanted to take this story, but unfortunately all my creative effort is spent. I appreciate all of your kind words, your encouragement, and most importantly your admiration for this work. So much of my heart is in this story but there just seems nothing left to tell. For months I would start to write, wanting to pursue an idea or a storyline…but nothing of merit would come. The creative fountains that once overflowed with words and inspiration for Time Stands Still are void now. I'm offering as a solace to those of you anticipating another glimpse into this story one last vestige of the tale that has captured a marginal piece of my heart.**_

**~~**~~**~~**~~**Eternally~~**~~**~~**~~****

It was an atrocity to think of life as a simple beginning and an end, to live only for the sake of living and then to die and face mortality. In death we signify our happiness by hoping for something better, something greater than our human existence with some shard of faith to reveal an encounter with our creator, a reward for our goodness….our virtue. We want our lives to come full circle and bring us to a place where the problems and plagues of humanity are absent, and the allusive peace that we fought so earnestly for until death will exist in excess.

Was it possible that I would have seen my father again on the other side of life? Would Edward have seen his mother and father? We shall never know. Conflicted hearts are often the result of the mind's perception of possibility; the lingering doubts and questions that plague our very minds. What if there is truly a higher power? What if there is more to it than just life? What will it be like to cross from this life into the place that is next? Will there be satisfaction and rectification in eternity?

Those questions would continually linger in my mind and in Edwards, for eternity. Any hope for an existence beyond this world was long gone, sacrificed by a ravage disease and a desperate decision. We were frozen in time, and forced to live in an ever changing world. Many elements of humanity no longer existed in our world. Physical requirements aside, our world was fundamentally different than the one we once dreamed about. In humanity there is no promise of another day. Life can end and somewhere within the frame of the human mind is an unprecedented appreciation for the simplest things. Such things become important like another sunrise or a rainbow just after a fierce storm, just because it may be your last.

Despite the sadness of losing humanity, we had each other, and we had Carlisle. We at least didn't have to face this alone. Our hearts, although battling a great unknown loss, were purposefully and eternally entwined and it was that fact that validated everything I was and would be.

I had fearlessly defied every element of my life, leaving my mother and bravely searching for the love of my beating heart. I wanted nothing more than to be in his arms for the rest of my life. Then the fantasy of forever, and a full life together took on an entirely new meaning, one I had never dreamed possible. As poetic as it seemed it was a bittersweet gain. I left severed relationships, broken hearts, and a world of unresolve for those that I left behind.

It was my mother that left me the saddest. I could never apologize to her; I could never hug her again. I had changed and was no longer a part of her world. I was a danger to her and I had to leave her without explanation or apology. It was that regret that hurt the most. There would be no reunion, no consolation.

The weeks following my conversion were blurry to me now. I remember the pain, such internal hell is not forgettable. I remember the thirst and desire, but the occupancy of time was all a mystery. After several months I had come to terms with my fate, accepted it even, was grateful. Edward was constantly by my side. He was different than before, I was different than before. We only experienced the world at night, it was safest for us, and safest for everyone else. We gradually overcame the primal urges of our kind to live peacefully with our father, and among the natural population. Shortly after our thirst and desires no longer controlled our existence we made our bond of love stronger with a wedding ceremony. It was simple enough, a formality. But it was Edward's desire, and as I would always do, I obliged him. Carlisle officiated and with him as our only witness we confessed and promised our eternal devotion to each other. Seasons passed and for us, time stood still. It would always be still. Our family grew over time, adding a mate for Carlisle, and four additional siblings, each of them perfectly paired and complimentary to one another. Just like Edward and me.

There were times we set about on our own, but a reunion with our family was always nearby.

Our eternal destiny was to be spent in a world that we knew all too well. A world that didn't accept magic or myth, tale or tragedy. In a world that only modestly appreciates the beauty and mercy that is life. Our world was void of many things but our love was constantly present. Just like anything else in life, you take the good with the bad, and live for the things that make you happiest. Being side by side with the other half of my heart was the essential hope and rest of my life. Because of Edward, I could live peacefully and without regret in a world were time stands still.


End file.
